Free
by TopKat
Summary: Destiel, PWP, basically. A deleted scene for "Free To Be You and Me" where there is sex. "He stumbled out of the dive laughing, Cas following behind, disheveled, asking what was so funny."


He stumbled out of the dive laughing, Cas following behind, disheveled, asking what was so funny.

Cheesy music and purple lights from the _den of iniquity, _as Cas had put it, faded out as the security guy slammed the door behind them, leaving the alleyway dark blue and crisp, cold in the autumn air.

"Nothing," he laughed still, a hand on each knee; he whooped. "It's been a long time since I've laughed that hard. It's been more than a long time. _Years._ " He wasn't exaggerating, either, which was a little bit sad, now that he thought it. Cas was smiling like a tourist who's been roped into a magic-act, despite not speaking the language; smirking because it was infectious, rather than because he understood.

He followed Dean to the car, Dean laughing even as he slid into the driver's seat. When Cas got into the back of the car behind him he sat at the wheel, still not putting the key in the ignition, reeling from how Cas had managed to fuck up losing his virginity to someone who was getting _paid to do it_. Cas continued to smile faintly, though; lacking, for once, in that general pissed-off angel vibe that he (and all his dick friends) always seemed to have on him. Dean turned to him.

"You look weird." he leaned into the back awkwardly, over his seat, and pulled Cas' coat and jacket straight on his shoulder. "You know, I'm not a fan of the monkey suit, but you'd look like an alien without it."

Castiel looked slightly offended. "Idoubt it would make that much difference."

"Still weird." he did up Castiel's buttons for him, not really feeling awkward about it; he'd done his tie earlier that day and Cas, like now, had been content just to let him, wordlessly staring, like he usually did. He flipped Castiel's collar up and then smoothed it down again properly. "She didn't get far with you before you pissed her off." Cas said nothing.

It wasn't a dissimilar favor, he reasoned, even as he reached for Castiel's tie, knowing what he was going to do. It was still like a favor for a friend, right? Just something one guy can do for another when he might die tomorrow - except that was stupid, because no one does _favors _like that for another person unless they're a) secretly hot for his dick, b) in awe of the dude's general badassery, or a combination of both. Dean suspected, just a little bit, that he was both. He frowned, hands at Cas' neck.

"You took the body of this guy almost a year ago and never learned to tie a tie?"

"It didn't seem important."

"Like the cloud-seeding?" he grinned, joking, but Castiel looked down guiltily.

"I'm sorry I may have...ruined things. I know it was important to you."

Dean, having done the knot too tight and too skinny, undid it fully and started to redo it. Thank god for all his practice wearing the fucking monkey suits. "Important to _me?" _He looked up at Castiel, eyebrow raised. "What exactly did you think _I _was gettin' out of this?"

"I was under the impression that it was ...a bonding exercise." Castiel said plainly, looking Dean in the eyes even though he was scant inches away. "It was very kind of you, Dean."

Dean grinned, bemused. "I thought you _wanted to_. Last night on earth, you know, all that shit. It wasn't for my fucking benefit." Well. Maybe a little bit. It _had _been pretty funny.

"I'm sorry." Castiel said then, so sincerely that Dean was caught slightly off-guard by it. "_Rebel angel _or not," he started, saying _rebel _like the word tasted sour on his tongue, "I'm uncomfortable with..."

"With _dens of iniquity?"_

"With whores." He said bluntly, and Dean winced.

"Ouch. The W-word. You don't pull your punches." He wasn't finishing the tie. In fact, to be honest, his transparency would have been really, really fucking obvious to anyone other than Mr. I-Cannot-Tell-A-Lie Virgin Angel. He held the ends of the tie, one in each hand, and Castiel was looking at him still, eyes very close, very blue.

"It isn't as easy for me to turn sex into a _function _as it is for you."

"Yeah, well." Dean muttered, still holding onto the tie, not really doing anything with it now. He trailed off, looked down at his hands because the staring was making him uncomfortable, then back up again to find Castiel's gaze still there, still constant. _Creepy _was the word, usually, but here it was softer; up close he was more human, somehow; less like a shell with something inside and more like an actual creature, maybe even one close to humanity.

"What I mean is," Cas started again, his breath warm on Dean's face, "_Virginity _is meaningless." he said assuredly, and Dean smirked at him, thinking _that's not exactly what it seemed like earlier; _but Cas spoke again, his voice level and quiet, "_Sex, _however, whatever you might like to think, Dean, is more than just a coping mechanism." The smile quickly dropped off Dean's face; he felt distinctly uncomfortable, and there was only a moment's pause before Castiel moved forward, and kissed him.

It was slight; there was hardly need for movement at all, their faces so close in the first place, and Dean found himself not even a little bit surprised that it had happened; maybe Cas had understood that he'd been gunning for it after all, because Dean would never have made an actual move; he was too caught up in human bullshit, and Castiel had none of that fucking baggage, save the daddy issues, and to that, Dean could certainly relate. It was even part of his appeal, to an extent. He leaned across, the driver's seat digging into his side for a moment or more, his bottom lip in-between Castiel's two, just processing this move in a direction he'd never really considered beyond his own idle, embarrassed imaginings. The angel raised his hands, brought them to rest on Dean's neck, pulled him in closer, tilted his head to better kiss him, eyes closed. Then he pulled away.

"I remade you, Dean Winchester." Castiel said darkly, his voice low between them, the alley, the car, silent but for the throb of music from the clubs on either side, humming so vague Dean couldn't hope to make out the words. "Let me unmake you again."

_Right._

_Shit._

"Okay." he murmured, at a loss for any other fucking words when Castiel tugged him assuredly into the back seat by his shoulders and Dean went sprawling over, kicking his legs to make it past the gear stick and over the driver's seat even as Castiel kissed him again, deeper, with a confidence that definitely did _not _reek of 'virgin'. Dean had assumed something different; angelic innocence, maybe, but instead Cas _gripped him, _hard, one hand fisted in his jacket, the other splayed over his heart. He moved to try and get some kind of purchase here, to at least feel a little bit like he was in control, breaking the kiss to sit with one knee in-between Cas' legs, one on the other side, instead of just half on the floor, half in the angel's lap like an idiot.

He wondered if he was going to make a habit of this; first Anna, now Castiel. Did he have an angel fetish? Zachariah's face rose in his mind and he thought _okay, no, probably not. _It _was _weird though, to have it happen at all, let alone enjoy it, especially when Cas was already shrugging his jacket off as he kissed him, his movements measured and confident, to the extent that Dean was honestly wondering if he could read minds. He pulled away slightly and Castiel just looked at him still, eyes unwavering. Dean wondered if he could even remember what the rest of his face looked like, sometimes, when it was so overshadowed by those huge, knowing eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked, because you were really supposed to ask a virgin that, weren't you? He felt stupid pretty quickly though, because Cas frowned at him.

"Of course." He said simply. Dean moved his hands to brace them against the back seat, one on either side of Castiel's face. The angel's expression remained almost blank, though his breath was coming fast from between his lips, slightly red.

"Okay. Good." He muttered it quickly before Cas leaned up and kissed him again, the jacket on the car's floor now, Dean left in his t-shirt, sitting on Cas' leg, kissing him like he was drowning. Cas' hand moved from his shoulder to his hip, where he kneaded the flesh there with his thumb, one hand still over Dean's heart. He tried not to break the kiss to undo Cas' shirt but found it impossible and sat back instead, tugging at the buttons, unthreading his tie from beneath his collar and dropping it to the floor without a second thought. He finished with the shirt and pushed Castiel's layers from him in one go, coat, jacket and all, Cas helping deliberately, shrugging it off and pushing the bundle of clothes onto the floor when he'd finally managed it. Dean hummed his intrigue even as he lifted his arms to let Cas undress him in return. "_Not _like an alien. Huh." and Cas, he _laughed, _even though it was more a snort of derision than 'wow, Dean, you sure are hilarious and sexy'. Unable to help himself, Dean just - _looked_ _at him_, his human body, trying, a little, to see what might be underneath all that skin. He touched a hand to Castiel's chest, in the middle, palm flat, and was a little bit surprised to find him cool, having expected heat, or _some_ kind of energy, at least, that had nothing to do with being in the back of a fucking car in a fucking alleyway.

He'd thought it would be like with Anna; the setting was the same, after all; but he'd forgotten - first of all, this was _Cas, his friend, _and second, Anna had been stripped of her grace, basically human, and this - this was something else. Every bare inch of Castiel's skin _sang _under his hands, trapped a power that he could hardly imagine, not a heat but something else, that he knew he'd only seen traces of; he imagined he could feel that this skin was stretched like a drum over Castiel's real self, just a human cover for what was inside, which was so much _- so much bigger. _The air had gone cool between them in Dean's strange moment of almost-worship, Castiel's eyes never leaving his face. "D'you still have wings?" Dean asked him, the words tumbling from his mouth shakily, a surprise to even himself. Castiel smiled indulgently.

"I couldn't fly very well without them."

"Yeah, I guess not." That was really fucking weird to think about, so Dean tried to ignore it. Castiel touched his face, holding his gaze, then moved his hand to put it over the brand on Dean's arm, matching it almost exactly.

_Something _happened, then, something not unlike Dean's hell flashbacks, but much softer, less like a punch in the gut. A memory of being carried, of being soft in someone's arms, like a baby, or a coat. He brushed that away, too, weirded out by just how fucking complicated his relationship with Castiel apparently was. Cas seemed happy to brush past it too; he kept his hand clamped over the brand, which still felt weird, but he muttered something indiscernible and kissed him again, as well, running his hand over the plane of Dean's back, holding him in place at his waist, just briefly, and then sliding his hand down the back of Dean's pants like it was nothing at all. Dean almost broke away in surprise but elected to just go with it; it was a bit late now to start being a prude, even if Castiel _was _groping his ass, pulling them closer together, his chest flush to Dean's, and both of them, Dean realized, _painfully _hard.

Cas shifted in his seat, and for a minute Dean thought they were just going to rut against each other, him in his jeans - something which he was actually pretty okay with - until Castiel, with ease, pushed him off his lap and into the seat next to him, so that Dean was sitting with his back to the car door, one leg still over Cas', the other bent. "What the fuck-" he started, staring up at him, feeling a tiny bit emasculated by how Cas had just pushed him like he weighed nothing at all; the angel settled between his legs, kneeling, his head bowed so that he didn't bump it on the roof of the car, looking down at Dean, confident; maybe even amused. He took hold of Dean's hips with sure hands and, flicking the button open, pulled his jeans down and stripped them off his legs, pulling them off one leg at a time, Dean trying to help but mostly just staring. Castiel caught his eye as he dropped them to the floor. "Should I have folded them?" he asked, so earnestly that Dean couldn't help but just laugh, lifting his arm to cover his eyes, head tipped back against the car door.

"_Jesus christ _you're funny." he said from underneath his arm, still laughing even as Cas pressed his lips against the soft skin of his stomach, licking briefly at him and then moving lower, until Dean felt him mouth against his dick through his underwear, pressing his lips to the damp patch that was there already, his breath hot against the head, making a noise muffled and so _greedy_ that Dean's voice went sharp when he said "_Cas.", _lifting his arm to peer at the dark head of hair over his crotch. He gaped, because _holy fucking shit; _it was either the weirdest or the hottest thing he'd ever seen; Castiel's wide, flat hands at his hips, his nose nudging against Dean's cock through his underwear, the material wet with his pre-come and Castiel's spit. He fumbled his hand against the seat for something to hold on to, hands clutching nothing several times before he finally managed to grip the leather, hard, bringing another hand to rest on Castiel's head, resisting the temptation to push him down _just a little. "_Cas," he said again, more urgently, and Castiel leant up to look at him before straightening to kneel between his legs again, undoing his own pants and shucking them off with surprisingly measured, practiced movement, for a guy who could barely do his own tie.

Jimmy had apparently been a briefs guy, and Dean was only allowed a moment or so to find this hilarious before Castiel was taking those off as well, leaving him completely naked in the car, head bowed, a strange and white shape even as he leaned over Dean, putting a hand on either of his thighs and hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers to pull them, too, down and away, the movement a funny kind of struggle as Dean tried to help by moving his legs, and only managed to make the job take twice as long. When Castiel finally succeeded though, and tossed them to the floor with the rest of their clothes, making Dean huff a laugh when he remembered that he had been willing to _fold them, _he suddenly felt a strange stab of fear with Cas looking down at him like that, his eyes so steady, bright, unwavering blue, two points of light even in the dullness of the car. Even as traffic streamed past the mouth of the alley, painting orange streams of light on the walls either side of the impala, occasionally flitting across Castiel's naked skin, making him seem even more than this body than he did usually. They looked at each other for a long moment before Castiel leaned well forward, their chests together, and kissed him gently on the lips. "I wouldn't hurt you." he said, puzzlingly, and Dean shook his head because despite all of _this_, he had never even considered the possibility.

"I know." And he did, though he couldn't have explained _how, _exactly, he knew it; he just _did_, intuitively, like knowing fire is hot, like water is wet, like the sun will rise. Castiel looked pleased even as he kissed him again, just as tenderly as before, his eyes not leaving Dean's as he settled back to sit on his legs, kneeling, and with his thumbs tight against Dean's hipbones, closed his mouth around the head of Dean's cock. Dean squirmed, curling his toes against the car-seat.

"Jesus _fuck." _he swore, and Cas pulled off to look at him, annoyed. He realized. "Whoops. Sorry. No mentioning relatives. Okay." he said quickly, and Castiel lifted an eyebrow as if to say '_good.', _before taking him in his mouth again, slowly going deeper, moving his hand from his hip to wrap it around the root of him. "Cas." he said, because this was going entirely too slowly, especially considering he'd had a couple of beers tonight, and Castiel finally pulled away after a moment or so, slowly, sucking even as he pulled off, with a final kiss to the tip, a slightly weird, strangely endearing gesture that Dean watched with his mouth open. "You-" he started, but was aware that all he could really manage at this point was tarzan-speak (_you, um, good, that)_ and Cas' name, over and over. He was struck, for the millionth time throughout this, by Castiel's ease, his confidence, the slightly superior way that he was making Dean's body hum, tense, with every touch. Dean suspected angel-mojo; he was even going to try to ask if Cas had been lying about the whole virgin thing, if it had been some sort of ploy, but Cas interrupted him.

"Sit up." he said, not commanding but rather asking firmly, his voice quiet, but still sounding too-loud in the car. Dean did what he asked, scooting against the car seat to sit up properly, his bare ass dragging on the leather. Cas settled over him again and just as Dean was about to ask him, probably not very politely, to please _finish the fucking job_, he wrapped his hand around both of them, pressing himself so close that Dean could barely breathe, his palm slick and wet, jerking them both off at the same time, _nothing _like anything Dean had ever done before - and he'd done a _lot_ of things before this point - but nothing that so immediately put him on the edge, Castiel's head pressed into his neck, the angel's composure all but entirely gone, making strange, keening noises that sounded almost funny in his gravelly voice, his mouth open where Dean's neck joined his shoulder, breath damp as he pushed himself, hard, against Dean, rubbing their cocks together in unison with his hand, with his body, even as Dean tried to match him, every muscle pulled taut and trembling.

Castiel was holding back; Dean's hands roamed the white skin of his back, the round curve of his naked ass, and felt the tension in his flesh that was, he knew somehow, partly _grace, _partly just _power, _partly something else that had been built long before they met in human form, that lived in Castiel's eyes whenever they looked at each other, a terrifying and consuming thing which Dean tried to ignore the presence of even as Castiel pulled away from his shoulder, still thrusting shakily against him, and kissed him again, wide, open-mouthed, a desperate, almost silent gasp as he came, their skin going wet and slick between them, the noise that Castiel made - somewhere caught between a shout and a sob, and Dean's name - enough to send him over the edge soon after, grunting sharply into Castiel's mouth, the two of them rubbing against each other even as they both softened, riding it out, Dean murmuring unconsciously, "_Cas. Cas. Cas._" over and over, his heart hammering so hard in his chest that he was sure Cas could feel it too, thrumming against him. Castiel let them both go and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist instead, keeping them together even as he sagged back on the seat, exhausted.

Silence settled heavily over them, the only sound the now-distant fuzz of traffic, like white noise; Dean watched the shapes of street lights move over the roof as cars sped past, illuminating the alley for only the barest of seconds before they were gone. He felt Cas let go of his waist, and was dimly aware of the mess that they both were, sticky, drying in the car's cool air. He was _cold. _He lifted his head to look at the angel, eyelids drooping; Castiel looked tired but awake, whereas Dean was pretty sure he was slipping in and out of consciousness, all his senses dulled.

"Next time, we should do this in a _room. _With a _bed." _he said after a long moment, tone light, and Cas frowned deeply at him.

"Dean." he said softly, sounding sorrier than Dean had ever heard him before, because tomorrow Castiel would take on one of his brothers. They were going to try to trap a tornado with a butterfly net, and Castiel would probably be dead before the day was out. He didn't need to say anything else; there wasn't going to _be _a next time, and that was the end of it. This had been a _last night on earth _thing, _literally, _and in his stupidity, blurred by lust or sleep or contentment, Dean had almost forgotten.

"Oh, shit." he said, matching Castiel's tone, and shook his head. "No, you know what, Cas? It's okay. You'll be okay."

Cas smiled like he was being really, really naive, and pushed away from him to pick up his shirt from the floor, putting that on first, one arm at a time. Dean watched him, actually _feeling_ naked for the first time, the mess on his stomach now cold. The angel turned back to Dean, halfway through buttoning his shirt, and kissed him deeply, languorous, bringing one hand up to cup the side of Dean's face, almost patronizing in the way he brought Dean's head close and kissed his forehead, too. Dean frowned underneath it, his skin crawling with sudden worry and terror. "We'll face it." he said, "And we'll find out." and that was it, the finality to his words tangible. Dean left it alone - sat forward to try and find his boxers in the pile of clothes that had accumulated on the floor of the car, and let things lapse into silence as they both dressed, Dean wiping at his stomach with his own shirt, Castiel putting on his layers like a soldier puts on armor, but leaving the coat, and the tie.

Dean reached for the tie himself, looped it around Castiel's neck and, uncomfortable with the sudden intimacy of the moment but _wanting it, wanting to do it, _to be _close, _he folded the two ends of the tie over one another, looped one end under and pulled it out again at Castiel's neck, threaded it through the knot, pulled it tight, and then straightened it, so it sat comfortably at the base of his neck, the angel unrumpled, as if nothing had happened, and nothing had changed. But, breaking it, he smiled.

"Thank you." he said quietly, and leaned forward just to press his forehead against Dean's. "For everything.", earnest and soft, and Dean wanted to say it back - he certainly had a lot more to thank him for - but the words weren't there, his throat was dry, and instead he nodded, breathed in, and climbed into the front seat. He started the car, shaking, and as he put his hands on the wheel he turned to the side and there Cas was, sitting in the front seat though he could easily have flown back, his smile gone but his eyes sure, calm, on Dean's. "Back to the house?" he asked, and Dean nodded, not looking at him.

"Yeah." he said, trying to keep his voice steady, a little sleepy; shellshocked, to a degree. Not, _not, _thinking about it, now. "Okay."


End file.
